


Outhouse Stowaway

by kibasniper



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Ficlet, First Meetings, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Prompt Fic, Some Humor, protag convo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: After finding a new brain, Raz follows Ford to meet a strange, unknown camper. Oddly enough, he likes staying in the latrine.
Relationships: Razputin Aquato & D'artagnan
Kudos: 12





	Outhouse Stowaway

**Author's Note:**

> the fourth of the twitter ficlet requests! this was requested by monstroboto who asked for "maybe dart talking to raz after being re-brained???" hope you like it!
> 
> for this fic, since d'art is essentially the original version of raz, i figured they would act in similar ways, but i also incorporated some of his stingy nature from the cut audio that was richard steven horvitz' audition tape for d'art. in that audio, d'art is angry that whispering rock and the campers aren't what he expected. ("BASKET WEAVING???") so, i mixed all those attributes together! there are also some slight references to scrapped pn ideas such as d'art using a pocket watch to hypnotize people in order to gain access their minds.

“Brought back another one?” Ford asked, grinning as Raz hurried down the corridor of his sanctuary.

Raz nodded and slipped his backpack off his shoulders. It hit the floor and popped off the latch, exposing the newest brain in a jar. Raz bent over and grabbed it, presenting it to Ford with a smile on his face.

Ford telekinetically set the jar on his control panel. He twisted it around and examined the polaroid picture taped to the side. Humming to himself, he tucked the jar under his arm and nodded at Raz, asking if he was ready to return to the field.

“Well, actually, Agent Cruller-” He pointed at the jar, brows coming together. “-who is that?”

“This youngin’? Ah, he gave me trouble all summer,” Ford replied, tapping the lid. “I could hardly keep an eye on him, but now that he’s brainless, I’ve managed to watch over him for a couple hours. It’s the longest I’ve ever seen him in one place.”

“But why isn’t he in there with the others? Isn’t he a camper?” Raz asked, gesturing to the brainless PSI cadets in the adjacent room.

Ford flapped his hand. “Oh, he walked back to the outhouse. He prefers it so long as he doesn’t have to associate with the kids.”

Raz muttered Ford’s explanation to himself as he collected his backpack. He knew that Bobby and Dogen could move by themselves when they were brainless and assumed this mysterious child was the same by returning to a familiar location. He drew in a breath, ready to further question him, but Ford floated passed him, eyes focused elsewhere. Asking where he was going, he cocked his head when Ford stated that he was proceeding with the kid’s recranilization.

Raz followed Ford to the outhouse near the parking lot. Ford yanked open the door. As Raz expected, there was a strange child leaning into the wall. With a long, striped stocking cap and thick, embroidered tunic, his appearance struck Raz as old-fashioned.

When Ford proceeded to re-brain the unknown camper, Raz kept his back to them. He grimaced at the squelching and popping noises. Although recranilization was a standard procedure for the Psychonauts, Raz decided it was not something he wanted to witness even as an extreme fan of the agency.

“Alrighty! That brain is back where it belongs,” Ford announced, stepping out of the latrine.

Raz peered around Ford, marveling to the boy. He watched him groan and rub his temples. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, a visible vein throbbing in his brow. Having his brain stuffed back into his head through his ear must have been somewhat painful, and Raz shuddered, hoping he would never have to be re-brained.

“Uh, hi,” Raz said. The boy jerked his head over to him. The tip of his cap hit the dirty toilet seat. “I’m Raz. I haven’t seen you this entire time, so you must really be good at invisibility. What’s your name?”

When the camper merely narrowed his eyes, Ford sighed and said, “That’s D’art.” He crossed his arms, the psitanium on his back pulsing a soft dark purple in the night. “C’mon now, don’t be rude. At least thank him for saving your brain.”

D’art shifted his gaze between them. He fiddled with his collar and said, “Thanks.” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat. “I could’ve done that myself if I wasn’t ambushed by that monster.”

“Linda’s not a monster. She was just brainwashed by Dr. Loboto,” Raz insisted, but the pointed look D’art gave him prompted him to add, “Oh, uh, but I get where you’re coming from. It must’ve been freaky getting swallowed by her.”

The corner of D’art lip twitched upwards. He stepped out of the outhouse, Raz noticing D’art was an inch or so shorter than him. “And smelly. Her breath was like rotten eggs in a dumpster fire that also had a dead body stewing in a trash bag filled with spoiled milk,” D’art replied, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Pee-yew.”

Raz chuckled, the joke vaguely familiar to him, and he nodded. “Yeah, I had to get used to it. I think gulping down all that lake water isn’t doing her any favors.”

Ford immediately glared at Raz, his pride as an admiral wounded. “Hey, the staff at Whispering Rock maintain a fine lake, thank you very much.”

“Then why does she stink so bad?” D’art sneered.

He threw his hands in the air, the aura around his psitanium fading. “Because of the experiment. I don’t know, but don’t blame that fine lake. She’s-she’s a…” He rubbed his eyes, weariness touching his expression. “Oof, I think I might need to recharge my psitanium or replace it,” he mumbled, and he pointed at Raz. “I’m heading back. If you need to return to the field-” He flicked his earlobe. “-you’ve got the bacon.”

“Roger,” Raz said, nodding.

Ford departed for the nearest tree trunk transit system. As he left, the boys stared at each other. Neither knew what to say now that the conversation had been derailed. D’art kicked a stray pebble, and it careened into a lizard, sending it off its course.

“See you in hell,” D’art chirped, wiggling his fingers at it while it scurried away.

Raz brightened. “Hey! I said the same thing when I set a squirrel on fire.”

D’art snickered and gripped his hips. “What a small world.”

“Anyway, do you wanna help me save the world?” Raz asked. “I know we just met, but we could use your help.”

D’art seemed to consider it. He rubbed his chin, his sleeve slipping down far enough for Raz to notice a large watch wrapped around his wrist. It did not look like a normal wristwatch with its thick, golden outline. D’art dropped his arms to his sides, concealing the watch. “I think I’m good,” he replied, shrugging. “Saving the world isn’t really my style anymore.”

“‘Anymore?’” Raz tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about it,” D’art said, giving another shrug. “Let’s just say things will work out.”

Rubbing his neck, Raz decided not to linger. He had a plot to foil, brains to rescue, and a friend waiting for him in the mad doctor’s lair. Saying goodbye to D’art, Raz took off running on his levitation ball, 

D’art watched Raz race off to the lodge, clutching his stripe of bacon. Glancing at his watch, D’art listened to it tick and smiled, knowing the world was in good hands.


End file.
